Spiraling Towards Madness
by Gaarasgurl666
Summary: "If people took one good look at us, they'd realize we're the monsters hiding under their bed. We are their greatest fear." Joker/OC
1. Chapter 1: The Ace

The warehouse was dark and dilapidated; the perfect place for a drug deal to go off without a hitch.

I sat beside my boss, the drug ring leader that gave no actual identification. We called him boss and left it at that; no questions asked or allowed. I'd learned to grow used to his normal behavior; he was distant but a powerful figure that you wouldn't dare to betray. Not unless you were completely insane.

I tugged on the leather henchman suit, not appreciating the fact the boys had picked out something so tight and revealing. What more could I expect from a couple of thugs that I trusted with my shopping since I was too busy bashing brains in for the boss. I was growing impatient now, placing my chin in my hand as I waited impatiently for the slowly approaching group. They were a gang run by the one and only Joker, who had plenty of involvement with our ring leader.

If it wasn't for my eavesdropping I never would've realized who it was. The Joker had a distinct voice to him, a specific laugh that whenever you heard it, it'd send chills down your spine and a spike of fear through your heart. As his gang of clown masked members approached I was eyeing the crowd, looking for him in particular. I'd always been fascinated with the Jokers mental psyche, after working so close to him in the mental hospital.

His ideals, his words, had driven me insane and had made me think over and over again. Sleepless nights were common back then, back before I'd realized the things he said had some merit. I was stuck here due to my own need to protect myself and what made me, me. My fiancé was dead, and I was alone, buried in a hole of murder, lies and deceit that I'd managed to dig myself into in a short period of time.

"Open it, Ace." I nodded as my nickname was spoken, gently brushing my hand against my back pocket that had the Ace of Hearts concealed in it as I stepped forward. The henchman's eyes met mine for a split second before I realized his fear meant that this was clearly a trap. He was far too nervous for this to be any other kind of baggage.

I gave him a small smile, taking the case from his hands and turning to walk back to my boss. It felt as if there was nothing in it, if there was nothing in it, and then what could it be? Not a bomb, I would have felt it and heard it ticking, and their drop off would've been planned much quicker than this. They could have rigged it to set off later, however we might have discovered what it truly was by that time and have disposed of it.

I heard shuffling behind me and the sound of a gun clicking; I froze in place, following the examples of the rest of my group by raising my hands. The case dropped to the ground, clicking open to reveal a photocopied face of the Joker, with 'Ha Ha Ha' written in red in various places all over it.

"Keep your hands where I can see 'em!" The henchman cried out, slowly stepping forward so that the gun was pressed against my neck. I couldn't help the sudden shiver of pleasure that ran down my body, oh it just did something' to me when I was being threatened.

"Nice try, sugar." I whispered, quickly elbowing him in the stomach. He let out a cough of surprise, dropping the gun into my awaiting hands. "Bye bye!" I laughed as the gun proceeded to go off a round was spent only on the poor guys face. "I do love the art of a beautiful kill. Such a face scarred by bullets; remember, guns don't kill people, people kill people."

I heard the click of guns, raising my hands innocently again as I dropped the gun to the ground.

"I always forget about things when I'm having fun." I mocked a pout, instead being rushed by a few other henchmen. Only six had come, but five guns pointed at me were enough to send back the sadistic, playful side that came out when I was murdering. The gun dropped to the floor with a clatter, with my hands raised I turned and slowly walked back to stand by my bosses side. He seemed more than irritated, although talk of betrayal had been popular among the henchmen.

It wasn't at all unexpected.

"We've got ourselves quite a doll here, boys!" A man taller than the others walked strutted forward, snatching the gun from the henchmen. He pressed the gun against my temple; I closed my eyes, letting out a soft sigh as the adrenaline ran through my veins. I could die at any second, if I was still old Stacy Carnesale I would've cried, maybe even begged for my life.

It was who I was now.

The Ace of Hearts feared nothing, welcoming anything to stop the pain of everyday life. Of living without a purpose. No, I didn't fear death anymore because I was already dead on the inside.


	2. Chapter 2: From Batman's Eyes

The doctors surrounded Batman at the table, eyeing him and Gordon warily. The nurses shifted around him, carrying film reels to the head doctor in charge. A projector was set up on the table, pointing at the cracked walls of the Asylum. He had been curious about the second hand woman to the Joker, a new dangerous counterpart that he had to study and hopefully permanently put her away. Whenever the Joker was involved, nothing was as simple as he wanted it to be.

"This is a few of the sessions we recorded…" The head doctor nodded, placing a reel on the projector. "If you watch… You'll see…"

The projector began to play.

It was one of the rooms where the interrogations were held, a small coffee table was placed in the middle of the room, with two chairs facing each other. There was a solid glass window where doctors could easily watch in on the talk.

A woman was sitting across from the Kimberly Young, a well built and beautiful girl. Something in her eyes was visible, a certain anxiety and uneasiness. She was leaning forward, her arms crossed and rubbing her forearms as Dr. Young filed through her papers.

"Mrs. Cavanaugh." Dr. Young suddenly stated, placing her papers down on the table.

"Don't call me that!" Stacy cried shrilly, the grip on her arms tightening.

"Of course. Now, to the subject on hand… I don't believe you belong here."

"I think I do… is that why you're here? Do you believe I'm faking it?"

"I do. You were one of the best Therapists out there, your life was at its peak and yet… You let one man get to you? Simply because you couldn't make him smile?"

"IT'S MY LIFE." Stacy screamed, standing up and causing the guards who were guarding the door to jump forward. Dr. Young had no reaction, remaining in her seat calmly with her legs crossed.

"No need to yell. What, exactly, is your life?"

"Making others happy…" Stacy whispered, letting herself fall back into the chair and going back into her protected position. "Making them smile… I knew when he said I couldn't make him truly happy, that I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't give others help because I couldn't even help myself… I couldn't even look in the mirror anymore…" Her hands began to shake as she hunched forward and covered her eyes, remaining in that position while Dr. Young wrote down on her clipboard.

"You've helped many Stacy, your case files run miles long. Tell me, is this the reason you killed him? Or was someone else present at the time of the murder." Silence filled the room before a reply was heard.

"No, it was me. I killed him."

"You admitted that quickly."

"I'm not ashamed…" Her voice had a sudden angry edge to it; her gaze falling onto the Doctor. "He deserved it… He deserved every second of pain, and so did she…"

"So you admit to the murders of Jeffery Cavanaugh and Leslie Burton?"

"I admit and deny nothing, but it doesn't matter, does it? I did along with them back there yet I'm the only one being questioned on it…" She glared, digging her fingernails into her leg.

"You're not dead, Ms. Cavanaugh."

"I said don't. Fucking. Call me that." The guards flinched again, moving closer to Dr. Young until she shot them a look to remain in place.

"No need for any ferocity."

"Have you ever been hurt, Ms. Young?" Stacy's voice became calm, her demeanor completely changing from what it once was. She now sat up straight, her hands resting in her lap as she met Dr. Youngs eye.

"The questioning is for you at the moment." Dr. Young seemed slightly off put; it was obvious to Batman she was growing nervous over her patients seemingly random mood swing.

"Have you ever felt the cool metal of a knife pressed against your throat? Against your cheeks? Have you ever felt the metal slide into your mouth, your tongue pressing against it in a feeble attempt to brush it away? Have you felt… tears, running down your face and burning the new cuts made on the side of your cheeks? Have you felt the blood trickle down until you finally go into shock, until finally your heart gives out…"

"This session is over for the day." Dr. Young sat up abruptly, clenching her clipboard to her chest. "Guards." On her word the two guards jumped up, rushing to Stacy and handcuffing her; she offered no resistance, instead keeping her gaze on the worried Doctor.

"Run all you want, Kimberly Young, but you'll never escape the nightmares…" As the guards pushed Stacy from the room, she stopped them and turned so only her eyes and the top portion of her head were visible. "I've been trying for far too long."

The Doctor stood up, replacing the reel with another one.

"This is her second session. A week later. She's grown more hostile as she had been thrown into solitary confinement for stabbing another patient in the throat with a spoon."

"Are you feeling better today, Stacy?" Kimberly Youngs calm voice started off the session. She sat in a chair across from Stacy, her legs crossed with her clipboard in hand. The patient across from her had taken on a more disheveled appearance, her eyes wildly searching around the room.

"Why do you call me by my first name like you know me?" Stacy hissed. "No one should be called by their first name unless they know the person… unless they're friends. We're not friends, Doc."

"I'm trying to get to know you, Stacy. You're making things increasingly difficult but rest assured, we're only here to help. I am here to help you."

"You don't want to know me; you don't want to cure me. You want to know the Joker, you want to know what goes through his head, if he has a pattern to the crimes he commits or the way he thinks… You think because I'm his right hand man that I'll give you information that might help you diagnose him. So that you can try to help him. HA. Pathetic doctors… You all are…"

"Why do you see us as incapable of helping you, Stacy? If you cooperate we may be able to."

"SEE! Right there! That word! That 'may' part of your statement, of your so called promise to watch out for the lives of others. Nothing is definite; all your words are bullshit!"

"Let's start over Stacy, seeing as the Joker seems to be on your mind quite often. You were once a renowned therapist; perhaps you have a comment on his psyche? Something that disturbed you to the point of this madness?" Stacy stared blankly at the doctor, her mouth slightly open. The guards were tense in the background, as they always seemed to be around this particular patient, and Kimberly Young had moved into a more defensive position in case her dangerous patient lunged for her throat.

"He'd win the most interesting man of the year award, that's for sure. A real pleasure working for him… I'd let that man do whatever he'd like to me. He could destroy my-"

"Enough vulgarity, Stacy. We're getting out of hand. Back to the main question that has been plaguing our minds, you admit to working alongside the Joker? Do you know of his whereabouts?" Dr. Young stood up, leaning forward and attempting to place a hand on Stacy's shoulders.

"No." Stacy shied away from her touch, shooting the young doctor a glare. And don't come any closer to me, Doc, or I'll find something in this room to bash your brains in with. Don't try your hypnosis bullshit on me either, or your reverse psychology. When it comes to the Joker, he kept to himself. I just followed. Looks like you're fucked, Doctor Young."

The Nurse rushed to remove the reel, handing another to the doctor who rigged it up. Batman turned to look at Gordon, who looked paler than the moon at the moment. This was having a considerable affect on the police commissioner; Batman had fought toe to toe with the Joker after all, this girl did not intimidate him in the least. But for a man with a wife and kids to see a woman who cares nothing for anyone, who's also closely associated with the Joker, it was obvious why his nerves were frazzled.

"This is her third session, and her last before her untimely escape. Doctor Young refused to meet with her after this session, so we were forced to bring in another doctor. His name is Doctor Robert; he generally deals with those suffering from personality disorders… Well, you can see how it goes…" The doctor grew silent, playing the last reel.

The room looked the same as the last two times, except now Stacy had her hands cuffed and placed on her lap. There was a chain trailing from her leg that implied her legs were chained together. If it had been anyone else, it would have screamed unethical and riots would be happening outside of city hall if the tables were ever revealed to the public. But the eeriness that radiated from the patient, the Jokers accomplice, was unmistakable and would put normal citizens at ease. It was hard to sympathize with her, yet Batman could empathize with the strain being put on her mind.

The Joker was an influential man who could taint the purest of people. But no, the Joker had not been the cause of her killing her fiancé and his lover, no, that had been all her. She had snapped, and Joker took advantage of it. He found another criminal that was almost as dangerous as him.

Stacys glanced up at the man who sat across from her, a smirk plastered on her face. She seemed to be mildly amused by something; however she remained silent as Dr. Rob scribbled down notes on a piece of paper. He then looked up with a kind smile.

"Good evening, Stacy. You're quite a beautiful young woman, why would you have ended up in such a place?"

"I'm not beautiful." Stacy stated, her voice barely above a whisper. "No."

"Oh yes, you are." The Doctor nodded. He began to scribble down more notes on his notepad.

"I'm not though Doctor. On the outside, maybe, but if you could see the things I've seen… The things I've done to people who were so innocent… You'd realize I'm a monster. A murderer. I'm what monsters are made of, and so is he. Be careful, doctor… I belong to him now, and as far as he's concerned, you're tampering with his property. And you don't tamper with anything that belongs to the Joker…"

The film stopped and the doctors gathered around the table, so that now every person in the room was facing Batman and the commissioner. The head doctor reached into his coat, pulling out a case file and placing it in front of Batman before taking his seat in the center.

"That is the report on her condition when she first stepped into Arkham. Bruises, cuts, a fractured shoulder… The Joker had put a beating on her, literally or figuratively we're not sure. However, there was one wound that stood out the most…" Batman opened the case file, spreading the pictures out in front of himself and the commissioner to openly view. He didn't see anything he hadn't seen before, the xray from her shoulder fracture, pictures of dark blue bruises on the verge of turning a sickly yellow all over her legs and arms…

"My God…" The commissioner's hand shook as he passed the picture in his hand over to Batman. It was Stacy's back, also with bruises all over it, however there was something more notable. The jagged letters soon formed into one word, 'Joker', and seemed to be only bleeding. The cuts appeared, they hadn't healed even upon her first entrance into Arkham. They must just be scars now but Batman understood why Stacy had referred to herself as the Jokers property.

He had labeled her, marked her for death, and now only he could have her. But there was still the matter of reason, if there was any, as to why he had picked out this girl in particular. She was a criminal, yes, dangerous, yes, but normally the Joker worked alone and kept to himself. There must have been something about this girl that struck him enough that he wanted her to be his, and he got her just as he wanted.

But one question continued to burn in Batman's mind, in all the minds of the people gathered around him…

Why?


End file.
